The Girl With the Red Hair
by EverAfter89
Summary: The story of Mark and Dar, his love interest. Slightly fluffy. Lots of sarcasm. I suck so much at summaries. Just read it. MarkOC
1. Dr Attitude

**A/N: Hello, my Rentheads. For those of you who bother to read it, "Today 4 Us" will be updated shortly. If you haven't read it, please do! Anyway, I got crap for not putting one in my last story, so here's your disclaimer.  
Disclaimer: I don't own (emotion, I) Rent. But Dar is mine...  
If you review, I'll love you a lot.**

* * *

"What the fuck?" Mark moaned, rolling over jadedly. He felt like he'd been hit by a bus. An 18 wheel bus. He opened his eyes but immediately squeezed them shut against the blinding light. For a moment, he thought he was dead or something. Then he forced his eyes open and realized that he was in a hospital. "Good God, what the fuck?" He repeated.

"Your blood alcohol content was almost twice the legal limit, that's what," said a woman. He glanced up through his long lashes and saw a young doctor standing over him. "You should be glad you're no dead on the street somewhere."

He groaned and sat up. "I really shouldn't drink," he mumbled.

"No shit, Sherlock."

Mark rolled his eyes. "You have an attitude problem."

"And you have a drinking problem."

"Do not."

"_Twice the legal limit_."

"Hey come on," he protested, "It was a one time thing. We were celebrating."

She smiled. "Who's we?"

"My friend and me. She _said_ lots and lots of beer was the only way to celebrate."

"Peer pressure," she laughed. "Why were you celebrating? Is she pregnant? Because if she is, I hope she wasn't drinking as much as you."

"No," he said grinning. "I got a job offer, that's all. So she took me out." Suddenly his eyes widened. "Oh my god…Mimi."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "What's a Mimi?"

"My friend," he said. "Is she in the hospital, too? Because she was just as drunk as I was."

She thought for a second. "Latina? Long hair? Cute?"

"Yeah," he said. "That's Mimi."

The doctor nodded. "That's the chick that brought you in here. She was quite hammered herself, so I sent her home. She asked me to tell you that, um...oh, that she wanted you to call her when you were feeling up to it and she and Robert would visit as soon as she was sober."

"Roger," he corrected. "Good." He let out another moan. "When can I go home?"

"A few days," she said. "When you can walk a line. By the way, I'm Doctor Horwitz." She gave him a strange little pat on the head and left. Only a few moments later, Roger came in.

"Hey, douche bag," he chirped, plopping down on the chair by Mark's bed. "Only immediate family is allowed to visit, so if anyone asks, I'm your brother. Your handsome older brother. Look, don't resent me just because I got the good looks from 'mom and dad.''

"Hi, Roger," Mark said.

"So, what happened?"

Mark shrugged. "I was hoping you could tell me. I got drunk with your girlfriend. That's all I remember."

"Yeah, she mentioned that. So, I take it you got the job."

"Yup!" He grinned broadly.

"Woot." Roger said. "So…who was the girl with the red hair?"

"Who?" Mark murmured. "Oh, her. Nobody. Just the doctor. Doctor Somethingwitz."

"Ah," said Roger with a nod. "How illegal of you."

"Oh, come _on_, Roger," he said, but he was laughing. "Well, how's Mimi?'

"Now? Hangover. But last night? Tipsy. And when she's drunk, she's _wild._"

Mark stuck out his tongue and made a face. "Bleh, Rog. Don't be gross. I'm already sick. So you can stop there.

"Well," he said, getting touchy feely, "I'm glad you're not…you know…dead…and stuff."

"Thanks buddy."

* * *

Dr. Horwitz came back around noon to take some blood. _Great,_ Mark thought, _Dr. Attitude._ "Hello, Mr. Cohen," she said, "Did you sleep well?"

"It's Mark, and yeah, I guess."

"How are you feeling?"

"Groggy," he said. "And bored."

"Story of my life," she said. She closed the curtain around them and climbed onto the end of the bed, where she sat cross-legged. Mark stared, confused. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. "Go fish?" she asked. "I should be on a break, anyway. I've been working fore 19 hours." He nodded. "So," she said, dealing 7 cards to each of them, "You said you'd gotten a job offer?"

"Yeah. CNN," he said proudly.

"Really?" The doctor look as a Priest might act if a nun told him she was getting a sex change. Well, maybe not _quite_ that surprised. "You don't look boring enough to be a weatherman."

"No, no, no," he replied. "I'm a filmmaker. They hired me to direct local news stories."

"Hm. Sounds like a big deal."

"I guess," he said, prudently downplaying his own pride. "Got any threes?"

"Go fish." She stared at him for a moment. "So, no ring 'cause you couldn't afford one…or because you're not married?"

"Are you asking if I'm single?"

"Maybe. Got any aces?"

"Uh-huh. Here." He gave her the card. "And yeah, I'm single. Why?"

"Just curious. Your turn."

"Got any Kings?" She shook her head. He grabbed another card from the deck. "What about you?" he asked, noticing for the first time the brightness of the mass of red hair on her head that she'd pulled back into a tight bun. "Married?"

"Single. Got any fours?"

He deliberately didn't react and handed her his four card. "I suck ass at Go Fish."

"Indeed," she agreed happily. A big male nurse, who looked more like a body guard, poked his head trough the curtain.

"You're needed in the E.R., Darcy," he said to her.

"Be there in a sec, Moose." She turned to Mark. "I'd better go. Thanks for entertaining me. Oh, and don't ever gamble. Because you really do suck at cards." She climbed off the bed and followed Moose out of the room.

"Bye," he said, after she'd gone. "Darcy."

* * *

**Usually I'm not one to beg, but please review! And I'll update very shortly. Promise.**

**Peace and Rainbows,  
_EverAfter89_**


	2. Valentines Day

**Hello, my dears. I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review. I realized as I was writing this that I spelled Dr. Horowitz's name wrong in the first chapter...so sue me. I'm too lazy to edit the last one. And um...yeah...review! **

* * *

Mark sat his butt down on a cold bench in Tompkins Square Park. February 14, 6:00 PM, Eastern Standard Time. Valentines Day and he was alone. Again. He wrapped his trademark scarf tighter around his neck and breathed into his hands to warm his numb fingers. Only two days after being released from the hospital for alcohol poisoning and he already felt like getting drunk again. _Depression bites,_ he decided. The figure of a woman brushed past him. He couldn't help but notice her white lab coat and bright red hair that was pulled back into a bun.

"Dr. Horowitz!" he called. She turned around. Yup, it was her.

She scrutinized him for a moment and then smiled. "Hi, Mr. Cohen," she said, remembering him. "I didn't recognize you without your hospital gown." He blushed and studied the wad of gum on his shoe. "So, what's up?

"Nothing really." He was growing increasingly nervous for no apparent reason. "Shit, look at the time," he said without looking at his watch. "I need to be going. Nice seeing you!" He turned around and everything went blank.

He woke up on the ground a moment later to the sound of Dr. Horowitz screaming "Asshole!" to some dude.

"What happened?" Mark mumbled.

She quickly knelt beside him. "Don't move your head, Mark."

"What happened?" he repeated.

"A punk asshole skate boarder ran right into you. Oh, no, your head's bleeding." She held her finger in front of his eyes to check how his pupils were dilating. In the mean time, a small crowd assembled around them. "Well, it doesn't _look_ like a concussion," she said. "But you're going to need stitches for your head."

"No hospitals. Please," he begged as she helped him stand.

She sighed. "Okay, I'll take you back to my place. I'll do the stitches myself. Come on." She took off one of her handmade mittens and gave it to him to press against his wound. Her apartment was nearby. Only a block or so away from Mark's place. A nicer building, though, in a nicer part of town. "Can you make it up the stairs?" she asked. "I'm only on the 3rd floor."

"Yeah," he said, trying to act tough.

They came to her flat, C12, and she unlocked 3 locks and led him inside. A teenage girl with braces was sitting on the couch watching TV. "Ew," she said when she saw Mark. "Is that dude like…bleeding?"

"Yeah, Karly," Dr. Horowitz said, "He just needs some stitches. You can go now if you want. How much to I owe you?"

"$6.50," he held out her hand and Dr. Horowitz gave her $7.00.

"Keep the change."

"Thanks. Bye." The girl left.

Dr. Horowitz led him to the cough. "Who was that?" Mark asked as he sat.

"Babysitter."

He looked at her strangely. "You've got a kid?" She was too pretty to be a mom.

"No," she said in a _this aint your business_ sort of way. "A little sister. I'm her guardian. Now hold still." She took a bottle of alcohol and poured some on to some gauze. "This is going to sting," she warned.

"Bring it on. OW! OH MY _GOD_!"

"Told ya so. Now, I've got red and blue thread. Which color do you want for your sutures?

"Surprise me."

"Blue it is." He tried not to look as she threaded the needle. He winced as it pierced his flesh, but after a few stitches, he barely noticed it. "Done," she chirped after 9 stitches.

"Thanks," he murmured, rubbing the wound gingerly. "Well…" _Awkward! _He thought. "Um… thanks."

"You said that already. And you're welcome."

"I guess I should be going home." He stood up but wavered a bit.

"What's wrong?" She asked, quickly steadying him. "Are you dizzy?"

"Yeah, a little. Maybe I just stood up too quick."

She shook her head. "Not a good sign after a conk on the head. Is anyone going to be home with you?"

He shrugged. "I think my roommate is spending the night at his girlfriend's. V-day, you know."

She took him by the shoulders and forced back onto the sofa. "Well, I can't let you spend the night alone if you might have a concussion. Even if it's mild."

He rolled his eyes. "Does this mean I have to go back to the hospital? Because I think I'd rather be in a coma at home than be sitting in a hospital for another night."

She sighed lightly. "Tell ya what. Usually I'd be hesitant about letting a near stranger in my house. And I don't know you, but you're kinda scrawny. If you turn out to be a rapist, I can beat the crap out of you. So I guess it's okay if you spend the night. I'll stay up with you."

"What? Oh, no," he protested, "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Nonsense. Someone needs to stay with you to make sure you don't fall asleep for the nest few hours. Otherwise you might not wake up, okay?"

He shrugged. This was nuts. But he just said, "Okay." They stared at each other for a moment. What were they going to do? Just look at one another all night? "How do you want to pass the time, Dr. Horowitz?" Mark asked her.

"Oh, God, call me Dar," she said.

"Dar?" _Weird name._

"It's Darcy…no one calls me that. Call me Dar. And you're Mark, right? Mark…Cohen?" He nodded. "So, how do you want to pass the time, Mark Cohen? We could finish that game of Go Fish."

"We _could_ do that," he agreed. "Or we could have a mind blowing three hour conversation."

"Sounds good," she said with a big smile. "Can I ask you a question?" she didn't wait for him to say yes. "Why are you scared of hospitals?"

"Oh," he said. Was it her business? Too much to tell a woman you don't really know? Probably. "No reason."

She shook her head. "No one doesn't like hospitals for no reason. Either you're scared of blood or you know someone who died in a hospital. And considering you didn't even make a face when blood was dripping down your head this afternoon, I'm guessing it's the latter. So who died?"

"Wow." He leaned back against the sofa. "You sure do get right to the point."

She shrugged. "Well, you said we were going to have a conversation. That usually entails telling someone about your life."

"Well…" he began. He figured if he told her about his life, she wouldn't like him anymore. Did she even like him to begin with? He wondered how his breath was. "Um, my friend. Angel."

Dar looked kind of sad for him. "Girlfriend?"

He laughed. "Uh, no. She…was a he. And she was my friend's girl. Or guy. Angel was a drag."

Without thinking, she said, "When I was in high school, I wanted to be a boy so I could go to my prom dressed in drag just to stick it to the conservative ass holes." Mark really liked her, now. "How did Angel die?"

"Um. AIDS."

Now she really looked sad. She looked away from him, as if she couldn't bear to see his pain. "That….well, that really blows."

"Ha. Well put."

"AIDS scares the shit out of me. Does it scare you?"

"Yeah," he said with utter sincerity. "You know, half my friends have it. I don't, though," he added awkwardly.

He wanted to ask if she did. He didn't know why. But he didn't need to ask, because she told him, "I don't know what I'd do if I got HIV. I'd just…die. Right then and there." Mark told her about April and Roger and Mimi and Collins and Angel. Dar told him about her old roommate from college who died from it. He told her about Maureen dumping him. She told him she had a nasty break up about 2 years ago and hadn't dated anyone since. They talked about chemistry and physics and how much they hated it, goldfish and how they didn't buy into the whole 5 second memory crapola, and how the whole carbonated beverage thing freaked them out. Then they fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Mark's eyes fluttered open and he came face to face with a little girl staring right at him. She squeezed her little eyes shut, opened her mouth, and screamed. Mark started screaming, too (out of shock…_probably_…).

"Darceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" The little girl shrieked. "DarcEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Shhhhh!" Mark whispered. "Why are you screaming! Come on, shh! "

"DARCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Dar rushed into the room a moment later wrapped in a green bath towel, dripping wet from being in the shower. "Annie!" She cried, and scooped the screaming child into her arms. "What's wrong?"

"There's a weirdo in the house!" The girl yelled, pointing at Mark.

Dar sighed and put her down. "He's just a friend of mine, hun, okay?"

"I don't like him." She stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his out right back at her. Dar laughed.

"Just…go to your room or something, babe."

"But, Dar! I'm bored! Come _on_!"

Dar rolled her eyes. "Call Keira or something and ask if you can come over."

"UGH!" She turned around and stomped out of the room, her long straight red hair bouncing as she marched.

"Cute kid," he said with sarcasm.

A laugh escaped her. "Oh, yes."

"Well, uh, look, thanks so much for everything."

She smiled sweetly. "Your welcome."

They were silent for a few moments. Mark wanted to stay. He wanted to talk to her forever. But he was scared. "Look, I don't want to cause any more trouble between you and your sister…I think I'm going to go home. Thank you so much."

She nodded, and picked up his coat and handed it to him. "I had a great night, you know." Still wrapped in the bath towel, she kissed him on the cheek.

Then he was gone.

* * *

**Worry not, dahlings. I shall get to the good stuff soon enough.**

**Review!**

**Peace and Rainbows,  
Everafter89**


	3. Confessions

**Um, yeah, this took forever. Sorry…I got surgery and was on these strong narcotic pain killers…it doesn't make it easy to write. I apologize for any spelling mistakes. I'm still on medication. But it's all good! And now, two chapters, from yours truly. **

Mark used to wonder about the people who did their work on the subway. He didn't know why…it was just a pet peeve. After all, a subway ride was like, what? Nine minutes tops? How much work could someone get accomplished in nine minutes? Only seven if you count the time it takes to get a seat and get all your stuff out. Why can't people just get that stuff done at their jobs or at home? But now, Mark David Cohen was a living breathing hypocrite. Or was it a hypochondriac? Oxy moron? Onomatopoeia? _Whatever_, he thought; _I got a C in English._ Yes, Mark Cohen was so swamped with his dumb CNN work, he had to do it on the damned subway if he wanted to be in bed before the sun came up. And it's not like it was even a good story. Just some lame human interest piece about people not washing their hands after they used the bathroom. He never wanted to read this much about human feces ever again. And now, thanks to his oh-so-lovely boss, the demon known as Cheri, he had to figure out how to put a "twist" on the story. He was thinking "Do toilets spin in the opposite direction below the equator?"Then again, maybe not…

The train stopped and that damn inertia thrust Mark forward. All of his papers flew out of his hands and he scrambled to retrieve them before the doors closed. He made it out just in time, thinking _another reason why people just shouldn't do work on the subway._ He made his way up to the street and walked home, thinking of nothing in particular until his legs involuntarily stopped moving. He looked to his left and saw the big brick building. Dar lived in that building. It was like his body was telling him to stop, walk up to the steps, ring the buzzer and ask her to dinner. But he was scared. He couldn't do it. It was too forward. He couldn't risk her rejecting him. He contemplated taking a pebble and chucking it at her window. It would be very Romeo and Juliet or him. _No,_ he decided,_ stalkers do that. The last thing I need is a restraining order._ If only he had her phone number. He should have asked for it when he had the chance. It was too late now. So he kept walking until he found himself in his apartment, miserable and bored as usual.

Roger was sitting on the sofa with Mimi resting peacefully against his chest. They acknowledged Mark with a smile. Part of him wanted to join them, but he didn't want to be a bother. So he just trudged into his room and collapsed on the bed. He sighed and settled on counting his ceiling tiles to pass the time while he blew off work.

An hour later, the phone rang. He was too busy trying to bullshit his way out of the CNN story to answer. Moments later, Mimi called, "Mark! Phone! It's for you!"

"I'm not home!" he grumbled back.

"It's some chick named Dar!"

He sat up. Dar? His Dar? _Holy…_He ran to the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mark," said the voice in the phone. "It's Dar."

"Hi! Um…how'd you get my number?"

"Heh…uh…it was in your hospital record. And it was kind of illegal for me to look for it, so shh. Don't tell."

"You're secret's safe with me," he promised, raising his right hand even though she couldn't see him.

Mimi, who had been ignoring Roger on the couch and eavesdropping on Mark's conversation, childishly waved her arms for his attention. He looked up at her and gave her a _what do you **want**? _look. "Who are you talking to?"

He disregarded her and said into the phone, "Do you want to continue this conversation somewhere else?" He looked at Mimi then and she rolled her eyes and turned away. "Like, in person?"

"Sure," Dar agreed. "My sister's sleeping at a friend's house, so I'm free as a bird."

They decided on meeting for coffee at the Life Café in 20 minutes. Mark, eager to see her, got there a little early and anxiously began to worry that the whole coffee thing had just been a cruel joke. _After all, _he thought, _why would she want to see **me**? _ Only a few moments later the door opened, letting in the cool February air. Mark's glasses fogged up. He took them off and rubbed them with his shirt, and when he put them back on, he saw Dar standing in front of him. He had to remind himself not to gape. But he couldn't help it. He'd never seen her like this before. Her red hair—the hair that was always in a tight bun—was worn down loose, with beautiful thick curls spilling over her shoulders. She was wearing a green skirt and matching blouse (a nice change from the usual white lab coat). It brought out the color of her eyes. He hadn't noticed how bright and green her eyes were until now. He hadn't noticed a lot of things. And Mark really couldn't believe it. She was _beautiful._ He'd always thought she was pretty, but he'd just never paid much attention to her looks until now. How could he have missed it?

"Hey," he said finally, after staring way too long. _Hey? Is that the best you could think of? Asshole. No, I'm a douche bag. Because only a complete and total douche would say "Hey" to the most beautiful girl in the world. Oh, no. Unusually long silence. Quick! Say something, Cohen! _"Um…"

"Hey," Dar said, with a sweet smile upon her pleasantly bow-shaped lips.

_Well, maybe "hey" _was _kinda smooth…_

She led Mark to an empty table by the window. They sat and talked. They stopped talking and drank coffee. They fought about bands. They laughed.

"Dar," Mark said at one point, "You look really nice."

"Thanks," she muttered, eyes downcast. She looked uncomfortable. As if she didn't believe she was beautiful.

"No, really," he insisted. "You look…I mean…"

"Stop." She shifted in her seat. "I…oh, God, you have no idea how hard this is. Just please don't…oh, I'm so anal!"

"No you're not. Talk to me, Dar."

She shrugged. "No one's told me I looked nice in two years. And he…well, you don't want to hear about that."

"Yes I do."

"No, I mean. It's too soon…It's so stupid."

"If it makes you uncomfortable—"

"My last boyfriend," she blurted out. "The prick. He wasn't…good news." Mark narrowed his eyes curiously, contemplating the connotation of that. "James," she spat, as if he was unworthy of even having a name. "He was great at first. We met a little more than 2 years ago. Shortly after my dad died. And Annie—you remember my sister. Well, half sister—she wasn't in very good shape. I just became her guardian and I had no idea what to do with her. And then this guy, James, he moved in next door. He was so nice. He made excuses for me when the neighbors complained about Annie crying at night. And he'd bring us take out…even homemade stuff sometimes when I didn't have time to make anything. He even watched Annie when I couldn't get out of work. He was fantastic. And Annie just adored him. We started dating. He'd tell me I was beautiful. He'd kiss my forehead. He made me feel…special. Then, one day…" She stopped and shook her head. Mark extended his arm and took her hand from across the table, giving it a little squeeze. She continued. "I came home early from work. My boss decided to give me the day off because I'd worked 23 hours the day before. Annie was supposed to be in school and I was going to have the apartment all to myself. Heaven in my book. But the door…it was unlocked. I went inside and it was totally silent. But then I heard a cry. Annie. I rushed toward the sound—the bathroom. I opened the door and…and there James was. Standing over her. He was naked; they both were. He had tried to…oh God, he tired to put it in her mouth but she bit it and…when I came in and saw him, I realized. I realized how stupid I was and how evil he was…I lunged at him. Annie passed out. I tried to kill him, but he beat me. He beat me bad. And then he, well you know. He raped me. And then he left. He just left. I was just gone, you know? I had 2 broken ribs and a concussion and a chunk of my lip was flopping against my tooth. Annie woke up and called 911 for me, but they never found him. James—if that's even his real name—he used me just to get to her. And then to me. And I haven't dated anyone since then. I didn't think I ever would. Oh, God, I can't believe I just told you this."

Mark was speechless. He didn't know where to being. _I'm so sorry. I hope you're okay. I hope he rots in hell._ Nothing he could say would take away her pain. "I'm not like that," he told her finally.

"What?"

"If I ever met that pathetic excuse for a man, I would kill him, Dar. Because I'm not like that and I want you to know that. I will _never_ hurt you."

She started to cry. "I know," she wept. "I…I trust you. And that's what's so scary. When you spent the night on my couch…I thought I'd be a nervous wreck. But I was okay. And that terrifies me."

"_I will never hurt you_," he repeated. "Never. I care about you."

She smiled an _I'm sorry_ smile. Then she promptly stood up and left. He throuth he ought to let her alone to cool down, but he couldn't. He stood and ran after her, ignoring the waiter screaming, "You'll have to pay for that, you know!"

"Dar!" He cried when he was out on the street. It was midnight and he could barely see her.

She turned around and wiped tears from her eyes. She stared at him and he stared at her. Then, without thinking another thought, they ran into each other's embrace. Their lips met, locked. "Mark," she whispered."

He kissed her again. And again. They kissed as they got out of the street and stumbled toward his apartment.


	4. Good Morning

**Yay! A chapter! Please take the time to review. **

Mark could have sworn he was dreaming when, the next morning, he woke up next to Dar. He had been sure that he would never be with another girl ever again. And now, he was staring at this beautiful woman, watching her bare chest rise and fall with the deep breaths of a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Her astounding red curls fell onto the pillow like art and her mouth was open partly. Her eyes fluttered open and Mark observed again with awe the stark green color of them, contrasting with her pretty hair. She looked around gently, remembering where she was and what's she'd done the night before. Then her eyes settled on Mark, who had been staring at her in wonder.

"Mmmm," Dar mumbled. "Morning." She stretched and yawned and pulled the blanket over her modestly. He reached over and touched her hair, then her cheek; her skin was so soft and perfect. He pulled her in and kissed her warmly. She climbed on top of him and kissed him back with a sort of…passion…he'd never received before. She started giggling. "What is it?" Mark asked, smiling curiously.

"Nothing," Dar replied. "It's just…perfect."

"Really? No regrets?"

"Really."

"Well, good."

Suddenly, Dar hoisted him up. He 'accidentally' fell on top of her and kissed her again, making her laugh. He got up and reached for his boxers while she wrapped the blanket around her and sat on the bed. Mark went to his dresser and pulled out his large Cubs T-shirt. "Here, Dar," he said, tossing it to her, "Put this on." Dar complied and then padded over to him. She pressed her body against his, ran her fingers up his arms, along his shoulders, neck, into his hair, and pulled his head to hers. She kissed him and said, "Look at us, we're all sweaty."

"Way to kill the moment."

"Fine. Don't take a shower with me."

He grinned sheepishly. "Did I say 'kill the moment'? I meant to say, 'Hey, Dar, how about the two of us go take a shower right now because you rock and I am your slave.'"

"That's what I thought you said."

They left his room hand-in-hand, and just then, Mimi walked out of Roger's room. "Blehhh!" She cried when she saw them, and covered her eyes with one hand. "Naked, naked Mark! Yuck!"

"Oh, come on Meems, I've got shorts on."

"On my list of things I never wanted to see, you in your drawers is like the second thing, after a pile of dead babies being eaten by spiders."

"You actually put that on a list? That's fucked up, dear."

"Oh, never mind," she continued, eyes still covered. "Hi, you're a girl and I don't know you. I'm Mimi, and I'm sorry that you have to see Mark in this state."

"Hey!"

"Hi," Dar chirped. "I'm Darcy, I'm a…friend…of Mark's."

"Ah," Mimi murmured. "That explains the nakedness. Atta boy, Markie-poo."

"I'm not naked!" Mark cried.

Just then, Roger stepped out from behind the curtain that separated his room from the rest of the loft. "Ahhhhh! Naked Mark!"

Collins, who always had the most theatrical timing, pushed the front door open, took one look, and said, "You know, my friend Jim is going on a nudist retreat next week, and there's probably room for you if you want to tag along."

"SHORTS!" Mark shouted. "I'm wearing SHORTS! If you want me to be naked, I can take them off!"

Dar giggled. "You know, people would pay to watch this." She turned to Mark and said, "Is it alright if I steal your shower, or do these people have dibs? Because I can wait until I get home."

"Oh, no, help yourself," Collins told her.

"Yeah," said Mark. "The rest of us are going to have a little talk about bad timing and the meaning of privacy."

Dar nodded and looked a little confused, then made her way to the bathroom.

"I think I'm in trouble," Mark admitted when she was gone, schlumping on the couch.

"Why, didn't you use a condom?" said Mimi with a laugh.

"Not _that_ kind of trouble," he sighed. "I really like this girl."

"And that's trouble because…?"

"I have no idea what to do, how to act, what to say. She's got a past, and not a happy one. This relationship can't end in cock-up like all my others."

"Well," Roger said, "As long as she's not a lesbian like last time…"

"Oh, trust me. She's _not._"

Roger smiled and put his arm around Mark. "Mark, Mark, Mark. If you're thinking that being good in bed means she's straight, you're quite wrong. The kinkier, the gayer. Or so I have read."

"Where the hell did you read that?"

"Yeah," Mimi chimed in, "and besides, I'm kinky, and I'm straight."

"No, no, Mimi," Roger told her. "You're beyond kinky."

"Ewwwwwwwwww," said Collins, covering his ears. "For the love of God, cut it out, crackers."

"Look," Roger went on with confidence. "If you're dealing with women, there's only one think you need to know."

"And what might that be?" Mark asked skeptically.

"Mush," he said simply.

"Oh, jeeze…"

"No, I'm serious. If there's one think chicks go crazy for, it's mush. Girls _love_ mush. Bring the mush. Bring the mush in buckets.

"Oh, Roger…" Mimi sighed, covering her face in her hands.

"No, no, man, it's true, I swear. Mushy gooey romance is the one thing that keeps women from killing us _men_ and living like one of those ancient tribal clans. Say things like 'You complete me,' and, 'my life meant nothing until I found you.' Girls go crazy for shit like that!"

Mark rolled his eyes. "You're disturbed."

"No." Roger whined. "Mush!"

"Oh, shut up, you big baby," Mimi snapped. "Mark, just tell her she's pretty. Girls _love_ that."

"Not her," Mark interjected.

"Hey, Mimi," said Roger, "You're pretty."

"Oh, go fuck yourself, why don't ya," she laughed.

"Fine," he declared, standing. "If anyone needs me, I'll be masturbating in my room like Mimi said to."

"Hey, wait up!" she cried. She jumped onto his back and he cared her into the bedroom, giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Oy vey," Mark sighed.

"Amen," said Collins. "Well, bitches, if you need me, I'll be smoking pot on the fire escape."

Mark shrugged and went into the bathroom. He pulled back the shower curtain and peered in.

"AHH!" Dar shrieked. She put her hand to her chest and sighed. "Oh, it's you. Don't you ever do that to me again, Mark!"

"Uh…" he stammered. "You complete me?"

She giggled. "Get in," she said.

He was happy to oblige. He'd never been this happy before in his life. Dar was amazing. No matter what, he knew he couldn't let her slip away.

**Sorry, I edited the last few lines…I forgot to add them before! Oops! Reviews are greatly appreciated. **


End file.
